Breakaway (Beyond the Play, #2)(89)

Don’t you have that big paper to write?





Eh. It’ll still be big a couple hours from now





That’s what she said





Walked right into that one, didn’t I?





Whoops





I’ll save it for the bus ride to Lowell





Let’s get dinner to celebrate





Can we get ramen?





Plus cupcakes





Whatever you want, baby





K imma go nap now





I’ll bring it all over





It is Valentine’s Day, after all





<3





54





PENNY





“Wait, so your birthdays literally have names?”

Izzy freezes in the middle of the aisle once again, forcing me to stop short to avoid bumping into her. We’ve been in this party store in a random strip mall for almost an hour already, gathering decorations for Cooper’s birthday party, and I love Izzy, but she’s so freaking slow when it comes to shopping. She nods. “Yeah. Izzy Day, which is the best day, obviously. But also James Day, Sebastian Day, and Cooper Day.”

She dumps a bunch of neon shot glasses into the cart. I eye them dubiously. “Can we buy these if we’re not twenty-one?”

She shrugs. “It’s not like we’re buying the alcohol. That’s Seb’s job.”

I don’t think Sebastian is twenty-one yet, but I don’t bother asking about it. His fake is probably top-notch. “Is he actually making a signature cocktail?”

“The slap shot.” Izzy grins. “I’m going to get so fucked up, I can’t wait.”

“Like at the Haverhill party?”

She pokes around the shelves with a little huff. “That was first semester Izzy. Second semester Izzy has more class.”

“Is the class the talking in the third person?”

She puts three different ‘Happy Birthday’ banners into the cart. “God, I love that you’re dating Cooper. Please tell me you rag on him just as much. He needs someone to take him down a couple hundred pegs.”

“Probably more,” I admit. “It’s just so easy.”

“You have to come with us to the Outer Banks this summer.”

I tuck my hair behind my ear, smiling. It’s nice to think of us being together that far into the future and being serious enough that I’m invited on the family vacation. I’ve never been to the Outer Banks—actually, I’ve never been to the beach, period—and I like the thought of a shirtless Cooper in board shorts. “I guess I’ll have to hope he invites me.”

“Oh, he will.” Izzy reaches up on her tiptoes to grab some blue plastic tablecloths. “He’s in love with you.”

I freeze. I think I might shut down for a moment, because Izzy says something else, but I don’t hear her. She throws the tablecloths into the cart and waves her hand in front of my face. “Earth to Penny.”

I blink, shaking my head slightly. “Sorry.”

“Did he not say it yet?” She cocks her head to the side. “Weird. Because he totally is.”

Then she turns the corner into the next aisle like she didn’t just rock my fucking world.

It’s not that it’s a surprise. I’m not an idiot, I know Cooper cares for me. A lot. But caring for someone you’re dating and loving them are two different things entirely, and I don’t know how to feel about it. Since I was sixteen, I’ve operated on a general principle: other girls get love, but not me. Not romantically, at least. I can have friends, and I have my dad, but a boyfriend? A boyfriend who loves me for me? I had one of those, or at least I thought I did, and then he ruined my life.

Cooper isn’t anything like Preston. I know this. And yet, I’m having a hard time remembering that right now.

I look down at my hands. They’re shaking. They never used to shake, but now, when it happens out of the blue like this, it means nothing good. I swallow. My mouth feels fuzzy, like I just ate a bunch of cotton balls. I struggle to remember my breathing exercises. Things have been so good. My meds have been working. My coping skills have been effective. Therapy twice a month has been enough. My life has finally felt like mine, and one I don’t have to apologize for. Cooper hasn’t pushed to hear about my past, even if he’s within his rights to, and in the process, I convinced myself that it could fade away completely.

I should have known I can’t outrun my memories. Not when they have teeth. Not when they lurk at the edges of my mind, ready to catch me when I stumble, especially every late February.

Why does Cooper’s birthday have to be on February 18th? Out of every day in the month, in the entire year?

“Penny!” Izzy calls. I hear her distantly, like she’s yelling at me from across a football field. I take a step forward and nearly stumble.

Every time Cooper and I have crossed something off The List, it’s been a fuck-you to the memory of what happened. Now that we’ve done all but the last item—the big one, the one that feels like an “I love you” if there ever was one—I thought I was finally getting somewhere. That I’d live my own life on February 18th without feeling an ounce of shame or panic, and I’d enjoy my boyfriend’s twenty-first birthday, and when all the guests left, I’d lead him to bed and finally erase the horrible moment when I realized Preston told me he loved me just so he could press record on his phone.